Lashing Out
by To Love or Hate
Summary: When Dean is still recovering emotionally from their father's death, Sam attempts to comfort him and ends up just making him mad. (Kind of steals the scene from Bloodlust where Dean lashes out at Sam) and the next day, Sam falls over a cliff. Can the two of them fix their relationship and Sam at the same time? Or will Dean end up lashing out again? (hurt!Sam/caring!Dean/angry!Dean)
1. Chapter 1

**FIRST FANFIC FOR SUPERNATURAL! :3 welllll first fanfic ever soooo lol here I go..? **

**Reviews are awesome so please don't read and leave me lonely! **

**-Ashanti**

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Dean clenched his jaw in anger as he listened to another one of Sam's monologues on how he 'shouldn't be afraid of showing his true feelings' or whatever. He couldn't take anymore of his brother's now obnoxious voice and punched the button on the Impala's radio.

ACDC rang out louder than Sam could take as he shouted and grasped his head tightly, glaring at his older brother. "Really, Dean? Were you even listening to me?"

Instead of acknowledging his brother, Dean began to sing out the lyrics to his music, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove.

Sam sighed and muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms and sinking into the leather of the seat. It was obviously going to be a very long ride to Amarillo, where there was a creature digging tunnels in the Palo Duro Canyons and stealing away hikers. Bobby had clued them onto it and was staying back at the house, on the radar for a vampire club in Nashville.

Thinking to himself, Sam felt bad for his brother. After all, Dean's mind was filled up to the brim- half with guilt, half with sorrow. After losing mom, Dad was the only thing that Dean could cling to. He was almost his lifeline; and now he was dead.

Even his younger brother wasn't good enough for him. There was a hole in Dean's heart that was rotting from the inside, and it stung whenever Sam tried to fix it or clean it for infections. Figuratively, of course, not literally.

Biting his tongue to keep from saying something, Sam reflected on tactics to comfort Dean. The best thing for him currently was space, but Sam knew that too much space and Dean would be hardened into antisocial-ness. And Sam wouldn't ever tell him, but he'd really, really miss how Dean shamelessly flirted with every waitress he could find.

Literally, every waitress. Last time they were at Fuddruckers, he'd hit on a 50 year old fixins' attendant. However, Sam had to admit that she was really rocking the tanktop and apron.

But there had to be something he could say to make him feel better. Even if it meant that he was bugging Dean to death, he would help him to feel better inside.

* * *

"We've both seen the signs! Don't you dare tell me you can't see it!" Shouted Dean at the top of his lungs in the parking lot of the Motel 8.

Sam knit his eyebrows together. "Dean, he didn't sacrifice himself for you! And even if he did, it was for a reason!" The younger brother threw his hands forward in gesture. "You're alive, isn't that worth it?"

"For Dad's life!" Dean shouted. "Are you saying you're happy he's dead?"

"And that you're alive?" Sam contradicted, pointing at Dean and poking him, which clearly set him off.

Dean glared at Sam, swatting his hand away as hard as he could. "What does it matter if I'm alive if he's not?"

"You can do things that maybe he can't!" Sam shouted, then he caught himself and calmed his voice. "Look, is this about him?"

"Is _what_ about him?" The older brother balled his hands into fists. _I swear if he brings this up again.. _

"Getting angry at me all the time?" Sam's eyes stared into Dean's eyes a little too much for his liking. "Getting into fights? Being reckless? Look, Dean, if you're upset about Dad's death, you can show it! There's no need to do all this! Do you think he'd be happy seeing you upset all the time like this?" Dean hesitated, and Sam jumped. "Do you?!"

Dean's mind went into a temporary color screen like you'd see on a television, then into the static on television mode. In blind rage he threw a punch at Sam, knocking him off his feet- which happened to be easier than it sounded despite his long legs- and onto the ground.

He jumped on top of him, throwing punch after punch. He paused and saw Sam mouthing something, but he couldn't hear him. Rage pulsed through his veins and he could only hear his vicious heart beating in his ears. Sam's mouth remained open, uttering a long syllable, and Dean kept punching, expecting that whatever Sam was saying was something about 'insulting dad's memory' or some crap. Dean felt something warm and wet on his hand when he paused, frowning at his fists.

Blood trickled down his knuckles, but they weren't his. He looked back at Sam and suddenly his brain rebooted. He could hear and sense and see now, staring down at Sam.

The long syllable he had been hearing was Sam shouting at him to stop- a pain filled scream almost. Dean felt nauseous as soon as he heard Sam crying and saw the damage he had inflicted.

"S-sammy?" His heart stopped beating for a second before getting off of the top of him. "Are you okay? Sammy?" He drew in a breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry.. I didn't.."

Sam stared up at him with dark brown eyes that seemed black in the dark, stopping his shouts and staring at Dean with big eyes. "I-it.." he coughed, starting to sit up. "It's okay.."

Dean grabbed his shoulders and helped pull him up to a sitting position and to his feet, leading him towards the motel room.

"If.. if you need to," Sam wiped his nose, swaying slightly. "You can hit me again, if it'll make you feel better."

Dean glared, feeling his anger bubble up again. He was _still _bugging him about this whole dad thing. "I'm not hitting you again, Sammy. In fact I'm gonna find the stinging iodine for that cut of yours."

Sam's eyes widened. "Iodine?"

Dean smirked slightly and opened the door, letting Sam in and starting to finally see him in the light.

"Good grief," Dean said beneath his breath, spotting the already forming bruises and drops of blood going down his nose and the side of his temple. "I'm sorry, dude."

"If it helped you to-"

Dean glared and slammed the front door. "On second thoughts, I'm gonna shower and hit the sack. You can fix that face." He said, storming off to the bathroom and turning on the water, taking a little extra time to shower and use all the warm water.

* * *

The older Winchester yawned loudly as he drove, still waking up. He was of course being careful in the Impala, seeing how it was his baby, but he couldn't stop yawning.

He hadn't even dared to look at Sam. He had told him that he was gonna check out the canyon to look for the creature, but that was about it. Sam had followed after him silently and hopped into the side of the Impala, not moving or talking the whole time.

It had already been a pretty long drive to the canyons, occupying thirty minutes already, but it was really worth the drive. Dean's eyes widened when he saw the view of the canyon, pulling over at the little trinket shop at the edge of the canyon.

He parked the car and got out, hearing Sam's door open and close too and continuing. Dean caught a glimpse of a man smoking outside the doors, shooting the Winchesters a glare as they walked inside.

"Excuse me, miss?"

The lady behind the counter- selling snow globes ironically- looked up and hummed. "What can I get for you, boys?"

"I'm Dean and this is Sam, and we're from the Missing Peoples Accounts in the Amarillo Police Department." He fumbled for a badge and showed her shortly. "We're investigating the disappearances of Helen and Frank Garden and Timothy Lipok?"

The woman frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"There have been rumors that Helen, Frank, and Timothy all disappeared in the canyon?" Dean clarified.

"Oh my word," She groaned loudly. "Those are my children."

Dean and Sam frowned. "Huh?"

"I'm Helen Garden, my sons are Frank and Timothy. They're only eight and ten years old, so they must have posted that on the internet for kicks!" She banged her hand on the counter. "I swear they are _soo _grounded when I get home!"

Sam cleared his throat and Dean walked out. "Thanks for your time, Mrs. Garden." The younger brother addressed her, following his brother.

Outside of the doors, Dean growled. "You are kidding. I finally find a good case and it's soon preteens looking for a few laughs." He kicked a rock over the edge of the canyon.

Approaching the edge carefully, Sam looked past the creaking wood fence at the canyon. It was a breathtaking view, and extremely deep. It made Sam's heart beat faster as he gulped and looked back at Dean, who wouldn't return his gaze.

"Look, Dean," Sam started. "I'm really sorry that I've been pushing you. I'm not trying to hurt you, I just that it might make you feel better if you had someone to talk to.."

Dean started to look up, staring at Sam's ankles.

"I always like talking my problems out to anyone who will listen, and it's hard to think someone can be different from me," He leaned against the wooden fence. "And I want you to know that I'm sorry for pushing you. I really-" A loud snap sounded and Dean looked up just in time to see Sam falling fast, the wooden fence broken.

"SAMMY!"

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**Teehee.. Hope that was good?**

**Reviews puhleez! :D **


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! **

**Please read and review! I love you all! **

**- Ashanti**

* * *

"SAMMY!"

Dean's shout felt magma-hot in his throat and his heart stopped. He heard a crash at the bottom of the canyon and he felt like he was about to throw up.

Sprinting towards the edge, Dean looked over at his brother's shape. His mind was racing. He was slightly happy, slightly panicked. Some optimistic voice in his head said, _it's only 20 feet down. Maybe less. He's definitely alright! _While the other voice said, _He's going to die. He fell more than ten feet, he'll never survive. _

"HELP!" Dean screamed. "SOMEBODY, HELP!" He turned, looking around. He found a trail opening a while away and he sprinted to it and down it. He ran towards the crushed form of Sam that lay just a few meters in front of him.

"Sammy?" He examined his brother and felt bile rising in his mouth. "Please, little brother.. you have to be okay!"

There was no response.

Dean got down on his knees, looking at Sam's body. He looked over him, taking inventory of injuries. The way that Sam's legs pointed made him suspect that one of them was broken and the other must have been a little worse than normal. His chest was curled oddly, leaving Dean to suspect some broken ribs. One of Sam's shoulders was higher than the other, cradled close to his chest along with his arm.

Scary thoughts of Sam being dead flashed throughout Dean's head, and he suddenly found himself panicking. "Sammy, please. You have to wake up!" He reached for Sam's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Sam groaned, his head turning a little. Throughout Dean's years, he had learned enough to know that he couldn't let Sam turn his head or he might strain his neck or something. He rested his unoccupied hand on the top of Sam's head, holding him still. "Sammy?"

The younger Winchester suddenly opened his eyes, filled with confusion and shock. "Wh..what?" He coughed twice, erupting in a coughing fit.

Dean gripped his hand tightly, as if supporting him.

Sam started to jerk around, his coughing slowing slightly. He pulled his arm, tugging his and Dean's hand, his breathing getting faster and sweat beginning to form on his brow. "D-D-Dean,"

"Take it easy," Dean directed, holding a hand gently over Sam's ribs to calm his breathing.

"You've.. you've got to.." Sam gasped, closing his eyes.

Dean frowned. "I've got to what, Sammy?" He tightened his grip on his younger brother's hand.

Sam shook violently. "Let go of my hand!" He gasped out.

"Wha.." Dean dropped Sam's hand as he realized that Sam must have broken his hand somehow in the fall trying to catch himself. He stared into Sam's eyes, who's breathing did begin to improve slightly without Dean clamping down on his injured hand. "Sorry.." Dean apologized slowly.

Sam continued to space his ragged breathing, staring back at his brother as if communicating with him. "A-ambulance?" He asked, his brain racked with pain. He couldn't fall asleep, otherwise he would land himself with a coma and he really couldn't do that to Dean right now. Of all times, this was the worst to fall off the side of a cliff.

"I haven't called one yet, but I can now-"

"D-Don't need one.."

Dean glared down at his pathetic younger brother. "Sammy, you just fell twenty feet. You're going to a hospital." He responded bluntly.

"No." Sam said defiantly. "I can't."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course you can! I've got an insurance card left from the car crash."

Sam shook his head slowly. "Dean, please." His brown eyes explained his predicament. "I r-really can't."

It hit Dean like a rock when he realized that it affected Sam just like it affected him to go back to the kind of place their dad died in. After all, sitting in hospital beds already made Sam antsy. But after finding his Dad dead in one of them and nearly seeing Dean die there, he really wasn't pining to go again. It was as if his eyes windowed his misery and fear of returning.

Dean bit his lip. "Alright. But only, and I mean _only, _if you don't get hurt worse. I swear if you start coughing up blood or get some monster fever," The older brother threatened, pointing a finger in Sam's face. "We will be there before you can blink."

Sam nodded- but just barely- in his understanding. "M'kay." He seemed to relax slightly.

"We have to get you back up that trail and to the motel." Dean informed his younger brother. "How d'you propose we do that?" He asked blankly, hoping to introduce problems that mind change Sam's mind about the hospital.

"I can make it." Sam responded bluntly.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Riiight.." He reached for his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"What're you doin'?" Sam asked, confusion playing over his face.

"Calling an ambulance." Dean said, typing numbers into his phone.

Sam growled. "S'r'sly, Dean. I can!"

"Fine," Dean put his phone in his pocket. "Let's see then." He said, standing up and crossing his arms defiantly.

"Can I have a hand?" Sam asked, reaching out his uninjured arm for Dean to pull him with.

Reaching down, Dean grabbed Sam's hand cautiously and pulled up quickly, Sam clenching his jaw as he came to his feet. Sam tested his legs slowly, gasping silently and turning his head so that Dean wouldn't see his face scrunched up in pain. One of his legs was absolutely unbearable to use, and the other leg was really sore. He took a step on the sore one and partially limped- partially hopped on the other leg, landing well enough to keep going.

His shoulder felt like it was being ripped of every time he hopped and his leg was on fire every time he stepped, and he couldn't narrow down which movement hurt less. Instead he just tried to give a light hop and barely touch his foot to the ground, gritting his teeth as he moved.

Sam was already three-quarters of the way up the trail when he started to see black spots on his vision. He tried to focus instead on his breathing rather than the pain that erupted through him like a wildfire. By the time he reached the top, he was on the verge of vertigo and swaying slightly. He could barely breath and his ribs decided they wanted to make themselves known. Of course the bruises on his face and jaw from the night before had made their minds up that they wanted some attention too.

"Sammy, did you hear me?" Dean asked, right beside his brother who had stopped moving. Thank goodness they were only twenty feet from the car now. "Sammy!"

The younger Winchester turned his head a little too quickly, wincing and swaying. He tried to open his eyes but found that he felt even dizzier with them open. Sam opened his eyes once more, looking at Dean and frowned when his world spun like a top.

"I-I.." Sam tried to communicate. Dean took a few steps closer to his brother just as Sam's balance went out and he fell forwards.

Dean managed to catch him by the shoulders, causing Sam to cry out in pain. The older brother managed to straighten his sibling so that he was balancing himself mostly, and grabbed him around the left side so that he could help him limp towards the Impala. Dean frowned when he felt warm blood on his brother's back and his own fingers but continued.

Sam was already half-conscious, his eyes lids fluttering to stay open. He began to growl mentally to himself that he wouldn't be able to write for awhile without his right hand. And it would prove difficult without his right leg. However he was trying to see on the positive.

However, with all the pain of his injuries weighing down on him, Sam didn't see very many positives.

"Almost there, Sammy boy.." Dean coaxed, his own muscles getting tired of supporting the mammoth that was his younger brother. Seriously, Sam had to weigh at least a solid 220 or more. However, Dean did have to give him credit. He really did work pretty hard to climb up the hill, which told Dean how much he really didn't want to go to the hospital.

Dean sighed as he finally got to the Impala, somehow managing to open the door and slide Sam into the seat. Sam moaned and used his left arm to buckle himself in. He leaned his head back on the leather seat of Dean's car.

"You sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Dean offered one last time, and Sam glared at him. "Alright then.."

Sam closed his eyes as the engine of the Impala turned over and the motor purred. He felt his heart beating in his chest that seemed to calm him like a lullaby. He opened his eyes and cast a glance at Dean, who was already driving the car in the direction of the motel.

"I'm gonna stop by the Wal-Mart on the way and grab some stuff." Dean told him. "You should probably rest for now, though." He turned his gaze to Sam, who looked absolutely pitiful.

"M'kay.." Sam idled, closing his eyes and welcoming the darkness.

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_**TBC. **_

**Please review! Reviews are kindness and love! Please don't be a silent reader!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back! Thanks for all the support I've gotten on the story!**

**Judyann: **Thanks a ton for reading! I really appreciate you reviewing the story! :D

**Morfanerina: **Thanks for the review and yes, Dean needs to get a handle on his attitude! I can however promise that in this chapter, he's got a pretty good control on his temper. Please keep reading and reviewing I love a diligent reader! :D

**Reannablue: **Well at least you didn't miss it the second time! Hahaha thanks for reviewing and I really love to think about what was going on mentally and physically after John died. Poor guys D: thanks a ton for reviewing and reading! :)

**Guest: **I'm sorry, I know I'm really not very realistic. However, if you wanted a story about two twenty year old guys who hunt demons and one of them can psychically divine the future and force demons back where the came from, you're not looking in the right TV show category. It's a fanfiction, I know I'm not perfect. (Sorry I just went off on you, I just find myself depressed lately. I hope the rest of the story is more suitable to reality? :) )

**Jkf340: **Thanks so so much! :D It means a lot that _someone_ doesn't think the story is a flop! Haha please keep reading :3 there is more whump to come! :D

**-Ashanti **

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"Rise and shine," Dean said, jostling the car a little bit as he sat down.

Sam's eyes flew open and he gasped, throwing himself forwards off the seat. He winced and curled into himself, placing a hand across his ribs carefully.

"Sorry," Dean kicked himself mentally. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah.." Sam told him. "I'm fine."

The older brother rolled his eyes, not believing a single word. "I got some stuff I thought we might need."

Sam didn't respond, resting his head on the leather of the chair. He moved his eyes a little bit over onto Dean tiredly. Dean couldn't help but feel bad for his younger brother, who genuinely looked pretty bad. His pitiful body was battered and broken and his face stained with color beneath the skin. He saw the misery that Sam was obviously trying to hide- and failing.

"Like what?" Sam finally asked, his voice croaky from lack of use and the earlier coughing fits.

"Sling, ace bandages, fold-able crutches, leg brace, splint wraps," Dean made eye contact. "Iodine." Sam winced, wishing he could have avoided enduring the stinging medicine.

Dean grinned and started driving to the motel. They were only five minutes away, so he decided he'd spare Sam from having to listen to any blaring music yet. However when Sam got better, Dean planned on not letting him hear the end of it.

The older Winchester idled with his thumbs on the steering wheel, bored to death with just sitting and doing nothing. However he was slightly happy not to be sitting anxiously on his hands in a hospital. He'd had way too much of that for his liking.

Suddenly, Dean noticed that Sam was humming something. Sam seemed to be only half-awake, his eyelids drooping. The melody of the song was familiar to Dean, but he wasn't absolutely sure what it was.

"Dude?"

"Huh?" Sam looked up, his eyes more tired than Dean had seen them in a while.

Dean grinned. "What song were you just humming?"

Sam frowned in thought. "I don't really know." He hummed it again and his eyes widened.

"Haha!" Dean laughed. "Is that Taylor Swift? I didn't know you were into country!"

"Shut up," Sam growled, lowering his head down again with exhaustion. "It must've been on your radio."

Before Dean responded, he pulled into a parking spot at the motel and turned off the Impala, grabbing the wal-mart bag and hurrying to Sam's door, helping him out.

Sam felt a tug and his breath was stolen from him. Dean manhandled him out of the car as carefully as he could but it wasn't careful enough. Sam gasped for air and took long breaths, closing his eyes and trying to fight his own pains away as Dean leaned him against the car for support.

"Eww." Dean growled. "You got blood on the leather," He said with disgust, grabbing a napkin from the glove-box and starting to rub down the seat.

He heard a _thunk _and Dean stopped scrubbing and looked to Sam, who had now gone fetal on the parking lot. He was breathing shakier than before and he whimpered when Dean went to pick him up.

"Sammy!" Dean dropped the bag on the concrete and shut the Impala door, hurrying towards his limp younger brother.

Sam closed his eyes, trying to force the pain to leave his body. His ribs were crying out loudly and he had landed on his right side, causing his shoulder and leg to erupt in pain hotter than the sun. He wanted to just black out but his mind wasn't cooperating with him.

Dean watched as Sam's body twitched and shook violently, trying to decide how to help. Eventually he settled on just picking Sam up bridal style and carrying him to the bed where he could rest.

Slipping one arm under Sam's legs carefully, not missing Sam's hiss when he touched his right leg, and the other around his back, Dean hoisted the Sasquatch up and began walking to the room. _Thank goodness we're on the ground level. _He decided now that Sam was definitely more than 220 pounds, seeing how Dean could bench 240 and Sam was really pushing it.

"Okay, can you unlock the door if I give you the key?" Dean tried to communicate with his younger brother, straining beneath Sam, the bag, and a key in his hand.

Sam reached brainlessly with his right arm, shouting when he remembered that his arm hurt. His eyes rolled back in his head and then his head flopped over his shoulder.

The motel manager, hearing Sam's shout, came outside to see Dean holding Sam. He ran towards the both of them. "What's the problem?" He called, staring with big eyes.

Dean suddenly felt himself blush. _I'm holding him bridal style. Crap. _"Yeah, sorry for the disturbance. Just getting my younger brother into the room, but I can't exactly open the door."

The manager grabbed the key from Dean's hand and opened the door for him hospitably. "Is he alright?" He asked, turning on the light for Dean as he propped Sam onto the queen bed.

"Yeah, he just fell. It's not as bad as it looks, I'm sure." Dean tried to ensure.

The man nodded. "Does he need an ambulance?"

"Nah, this happens all the time. Trust me," He shot him a smile that made the man nod understandingly.

The manager pointed towards the door. "Well if you need anything I'm here all night on guard duty."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

Staring at the salt at the doorline with a frown, the manager shut the door behind him and walked towards his office again, shaking his head slightly.

Settling down on the bed in front of Sam, Dean started to open the bags and pull out the first aid things he had bought. Dean decided he would start with Sam's face since that was the part of his body he could see already and he didn't need to wake his younger brother to treat that.

Now that he could see his face more clearly in the light, Dean felt himself getting close to throwing up. He knew that none of the damage to Sam's face was caused by the fall; but instead all by him. The left side of his face was a dark black and blue around his temple and a red tear indicated where his skin had ripped. The other side was much less extensive since Dean was right handed, but there was still some bruising.

Sam's lip was split near the left side, making Dean cringe. He couldn't help but feel guilty as he looked over his younger sibling at the damage he had inflicted.

"D..Dean?" Sam blinked, his eyes fluttering slowly. "Why're you starin' at me?"

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "I'm trying to patch you up." He frowned at he began to put some iodine on a Q-tip and held it to Sam's cut on his temple. "Did you even clean this up yesterday?"

Sam ignored his question.

"How about ice? Did you put anything on your face?" Dean questioned, holding the Q-tip a little harder than he should have. He stopped and pulled back the Q-tip a little bit, trying to make sure he wasn't hurting Sam any further.

"No.." Sam admitted. "I was too tired to do anything."

Dean frowned and tossed the Q-tip in the trash bin, reaching for the smallest bandage he had bought which was big enough to cover all of Sam's temple. He stuck it on carefully and stood up. "I'll be right back with a bag of ice." He eyed the way Sam was holding his ribs and added, "Maybe a bucket, if I can find one."

Sam nodded slowly, eyes big. As soon as Dean left, Sam heard his phone start ringing. He debated for a moment, and then eventually decided he would probably have to answer. The only problem was that the phone was on the other bed, and Sam would have to get up and walk to the phone.

Slowly, the young Winchester slid his legs carefully over the edge, wincing, and found himself on his left foot trying to balance. After time, his leg had gotten even worse and now he was really paying for it.

"Come on," He insisted to himself. He hopped, grimacing as his shoulder stopped being dormant and decided to start burning. He reached out to grab the phone off the bed, when he lost his balance.

Dean opened the door just in time to watch Sam land on the bed, crushing his ribs and screaming. He rolled off the bed, trying to relieve his ribs and only hurting his shoulder worse.

"Oh great," Dean dropped the bucket of ice down on the desk and got on his knees beside Sam. "Sammy? Hold still, darn it!" Sam flung his arms and legs around vigorously, throwing his head from side to side. "STOP!" Dean shouted.

He grabbed his brother's arms and pinned them down, being especially careful with his injured arm. Once Sam started to calm slightly, Dean began to move his hands away. "Calm down, okay? If you keep moving like that, you're just gonna get hurt worse."

"M'kay." Sam gasped, closing his eyes to avoid crying. He really felt like he was on fire, his whole body melting.

Dean frowned, looking over his brother. He did a double-take and eventually slipped his hands under Sam's knees.

"Wh-what're you doin'?" Sam murmured, whimpering as Dean touched his shoulder.

"Moving you onto the bed." Dean growled as he lifted, grunting with each step. He slowly eased Sam onto the bed, Sam holding his breath and balling his uninjured hand into a fist until Dean let him down when he gasped loudly, throwing his head backwards.

Dean got up for the ice bucket, looking over his shoulder at Sam, who had paled considerably. He grabbed the bucket and walked back. "Are you okay?" When he sat down, he bounced the bed, throwing Sam's ribs around and making him gasp again, squinting his eyes closed and holding a hand over them. "Okay, stupid question."

"S'okay." Sam tried to comfort Dean, however he punctuated his statement with a loud coughing fit. When he was finished he was wheezing and his cheeks were bright red, bent forwards in an attempt to regain his breath.

Dean watched helplessly as Sam wheezed and began to breath raggedly, shaking violently with every breath. He wished there were something he could do to help his younger brother, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Hey," Dean caught his younger brother's attention. "When you feel up to it, I want to pull that shirt off you and get some ice on those ribs."

Sam nodded slowly, not ready to waste any breath. He took a few deep breaths and reached out for Dean to pull him up off his back. Dean obliged and gave a yank on Sam's arm, making him grit his teeth as he reached height.

He put his one uninjured shoulder up, stopping for the other one. He didn't want to move his arm but he knew that Dean would do the rest if he could just pull it up. Slowly he eased his shoulder, hissing and trying his best not to cry out.

Dean knew that Sam couldn't hold for long so he grabbed the shirt and pulled up quickly and easily as possible, managing to not get the shirt caught on Sam's chin. He tossed the shirt in the corner of the room for the maid or whoever to get when they came back. "Okay, you're good." Dean told Sam, who lowered his arms and winced loudly. "Don't lay back just let, I'm gonna get you a pillow."

" 'Kay."

The older brother began his scour of the room for the pillows and found them atop a shelf in the closet. "Ah-ha!" He said, grabbing them and walking back to the bed. He propped them behind Sam and fluffed them a bit before slowly lowering his brother down into a slouched over-sitting position. "There you go, Sammy."

"Thanks.." He murmured, closing his eyes and smiling at the relief the fluffy pillows brought. "S'nice."

Dean found the complimentary shower cap under the bathroom sink and filled it with ice, grinning at his make-shift ice-pack. He walked back into the room and began to examine Sam's ribs. "I might have to feel your ribs to tell if they're broken." He informed his brother.

"Didn't you buy some morphine or something?" Sam half-moaned, half-whined.

"Not legal to buy, little brother." Dean reminded him, before he suddenly pulled out a large box of morphine patches.

Sam gave him a big grin. "Th-thanks.." His eyes rolled back in his head.

"Sammy! Don't you even dare pass out on me!" Dean growled, walking back over. He grabbed a piece of ice from the shower cap and pressed it to his ribs, making Sam's eyes open wide.

"Whoa-oh!" Sam shouted. "Cold!" He shook his head and slapped Dean's hand away and the ice cube with it. "I'm awake, I swear."

Dean eyed his little brother cautiously and opened the box. "This stuff was prescribed to a 'Xi Hinata,' so you'd better be grateful I know conversational Japanese." He said, pulling out two patches and unwrapping them, sticking them both to Sam's collarbone.

Almost immediately, Sam sighed, his eyelids drifting slightly. He kept them open only in fear of another ice-cube attack, but only just.

Dean looked over Sam's ribs for the first time, frowning at the black and blue bruises over them. He could only imagine the bruises on his back from how he landed. In fact, he wasn't sure if he wanted to jostle his brother around any more than he already had.

Slowly, he grabbed the make-shift-ice-pack and placed it on Sam's rib cage. Sam hissed, and after a few moments he sighed with the relief that the ice brought to his irritated rib cage. He could feel Dean slowly pressing down on each rib to find cracks or breaks, but he didn't feel the pain of it. He was just conscious of what was happening.

Dean bit his lip as counted the broken ribs and cracked ribs. He felt as though he should write it all down so that he would remember which was which, but ultimately he decided he would memorize them. _One there that is broken.. this one is fine.. this one is cracked- no, broken. This one here is.. broken too. _He grimaced as he found one broken but didn't locate the tip that had broken off.

"Sammy, does this hurt?" Dean asked as he pressed against one rib he couldn't determine whether it was cracked or fine.

Sam shook his head. "I can't really tell..." He lifted his left arm and began to examine his rib, pushing at it. "I think it's fine. I don't really feel anything." He lifted his arm up and paused, examining his fingers. "Hehe.. my fingers are really long.." Sam wiggled his fingers, giggling as they moved.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Dude.." He laughed softly. "You're awesome on drugs, you know that?"

"Hmm?" Sam asked, poking his nose and laughing like something really funny had just happened. "The world is so happy, Dean!"

"Yep, it is.." Dean managed, standing up and walking towards Sam's back. "I'm gonna scoot you forwards a little bit, alright Sammy?" Sam giggled in response and Dean pushed him softly, easing space between the headboard and Sam so that he could check his back.

He grabbed the iodine and Q-tips from the bedside table where they rested and applied them to the deep cuts on Sam's back. After he finished, he put bandages on each; putting two on one extremely long cut. He felt along Sam's back for breaks, and was quite satisfied when he didn't find any.

Once finished, Dean readjusted Sam, who was suddenly quite interested in his hair. He took his right arm gently, feeling for the break and grimacing when he found it. He wrapped the ace-bandage around his arm carefully, stopping and cutting off the remaining bandage left. He pinned the bandage in place, then went to fetch the sling for Sam's shoulder.

He walked back over and frowned. "Hey Sam? Can you hold still for a sec?" Sam's big eyes looked up into Dean's, and his smile shrunk.

"Okeydokey."

Dean wanted to laugh at his brother, perhaps record a video or something to laugh at later, but for now he had to get everything done. He slipped the sling on and eased the injured arm inside it until his elbow was in the crook of it. He tightened it to Sam's measurements and stood back, proud of himself suddenly.

"Oh, um, Sam," Dean dug into his pocket for a flashlight. "Open you eyes for me."

Sam opened his wide eyes as Dean shined his light into his left eye, watching the pupil dilate and then looking at the right eye. He frowned to himself. _I think it's when the pupils aren't the same size when someone has a concussion, right? Because his pupils are insanely different.. _"Okay, thanks."

Dean decided that he was done checking Sam for injuries, about to get into bed-

Until he remember Sam's legs.

Dean sighed as Sam began making fighter plane sounds and flew his uninjured arm around the air as if were jet. He made gun shot sounds, curving his arm around as the "plane" turned.

"Alright then," Dean grabbed Sam's shoes and socks, pulling them off easily. He tossed them onto the floor and went to work on pulling off Sam's jeans. He gave a gentle but forceful yank and Sam's pants came off without getting caught.

Sam started laughing at Dean, who was trying to do _something _with the pants. Dean wasn't sure what to do with them, and ended up throwing them over his shoulder. He looked over Sam's left leg and found large bruise around his ankle. He felt around the bone but didn't find any breaks, and decided it must have been a sprain. He grabbed the splint he purchased and eased it over the dark blue, purple, and black ankle that belonged to his younger brother.

Sam tried to move his ankle in the splint, but frowned in confusion when he couldn't move his joint. "Huh?" He tried again, and glared at it. "Dean, I don't want that thing."

"This?"

"Yeah. I can't move my ankle."

Dean started laughing. "You aren't supposed to move your ankle, stupid." He went to his right leg and found the break- then another. As he reached for the ace and began wrapping, he found another on the- _Oh, what do you call them? Femins? Fumars? Femurs? Yeah, femurs, that's it. _Dean thought to himself. He slowly wrapped, lifting Sam's leg to go around each time. He was starting to run out of ace bandage when he reached Sam's knee, happy that he had sprung for three rolls of the aces. He grabbed the third, frowning as he found yet another break in the tibia or fibia or whatever- Dean had never bothered to remember which was which; that was Sam's job. He wrapped some more until he met Sam's ankle, feeling around the ankle and foot for breaks. When he found nothing he smiled and finished the wrap with a little metal clip to hold it in place.

"Are you getting a bird?"

Dean frowned up at Sam. "What?"

"That birdcage!" He grinned, pointing at the large leg brace that was surprisingly just the right size to cover all of Sam's long leg. "Am I getting a bird?"

"Er," Dean struggled not to laugh. He pulled out his camera phone and turned it onto the record setting. "Could you say that again Sammy?"

"Are we getting a bird for the little birdcage?" He asked, giggling and covering his mouth to hide his laughs.

The older Winchester pointed the camera at the leg brace, and turned it around to face him. He winked at the camera, knowing full and well that Sam would be furious by morning.

Clicking off the phone, Dean picked up the brace and began to fit Sam's leg inside, clicking the locks closed and smiling at his finished work. He admired his job, and looked up at Sam's eyes.

"Do you feel better Sammy?" Dean asked his younger brother.

Sam grinned. He lifted his left arm to the air and smiled at the ceiling. "I'm a flying polar bear!" He giggled.

Dean frowned and walked up to his brother, grabbing one of the two morphine patches off his collarbone. He threw it out, and Sam stared down, poking where the patch had been. "I'm thinking you should only have one at a time, little brother."

The older hunter covered Sam with a blanket, adjusting him so he was laying on his back. "Goodnight, Sammy."

"Night Dean.." Sam said, his eyelids closing easily as he fell asleep.

* * *

_**TBC.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Whoa! I just got online expecting no reviews at all, and then- voila! TONS! :D *excitement***

**Okay, so, allow me to address said reviews: **

**Lucydolly22: Lol thank you! I kinda pre-wrote the story last time I was on so I could just upload a chapter each time I got online since I do so less frequently than I should, so I can't really put in more doped!Sam unless I add another chapter of just that. Which I will mention to everyone and offer! (If I get at least 7 people saying they want it, I'll write it in) Thanks for reviewing!**

**lovejensenacklesforever: Hahaha thanks so do I XD and why yes, it is! C: thanks for reviewing!**

**Jkf340: Lol well I'm not what you'd call medically intelligent. I don't ever do anything in hospitals besides give people pudding.. XD Warning: there's more medical nonsense that probably isn't anywhere near realistic, but hold on for me :) Thanks for your reviews! :D**

**Morfanerina: Ahhh Idk I just couldn't write about anything realistic because then the cops we be chasing them all over the place and (WAIT THAT'S AN AWESOME STORY IDEA D:) Lol and hmmm you're probably right but as I've said, I know almost nothing about realistic medical writing, so please forgive me! And in this chapter there's some more angry!Dean, but it eventually turns out to be pretty sweet (in my heart, at least.) It tore at my heartstrings as I wrote it :3Thanks for reviewing!**

**judyann: Thanks so much for reviewing! :D :D :D and I might add in an extra chapter at the end just about Drugged!Sammy, so make sure to tell me your opinion on that :)**

**Reanna blue: I might write more drugged Sammy, but I pre-wrote the chapters so they're already done.. but I might include an extra chapter of just that if I get at least 7 reviews saying they want that. Thanks for review! :D**

**Eva: LOL! well I wrote all the chapters before I even posted the first one, so I can't really change them, but I may add a ending epilogue chapter just about Sammy on drugs, so please review to tell me if you'd like that :D Thanks for reviewing!**

**OKAY** FOR ANYONE I DIDN'T TELL, I PREWROTE THE STORY, SO I CAN'T CHANGE HOW IT IS OR WHAT HAPPENS, BUT IF I GET 7 REVIEWS REQUESTING AN EXTRA EPILOGUE CHAPTER ABOUT SAMMY ON DRUGS OR WHATEVER YOU GUYS WANT OR ASK FOR THEN I WILL WRITE IT UP! :D**

**AND ALSO***** More medical nonsense is coming up and it's probably all incorrect (I doubt morphine even CAUSES any sort of nausea, but I needed some excuse. So please forgive me, because I really don't know a ton about this subject)**

**Please review after you read! Thanks!** :)

* * *

Sam's first waking thought was, _I really, really need to puke. _He felt extremely nauseous and immediately was ready to make a mess on the floor. He felt the pain in his shoulder and arm, feeling very jostled from the previous night, and the poking and prodding business from last night had not made his ribs any better. He felt along his chest carefully as he found a foreign object he identified as a morphine patch.

That had _clearly_ run out of it's magic. _  
_

"D..Dean.." He moaned, trying his best to keep from vomiting all over the hotel carpet. "Dean?" He could feel his face turning green and yesterday's measly breakfast coming back up.

Dean grunted in his sleep, lifting his head slowly and frowning. His eyelids dropped for a second before his pupils singled in on Sam, who was considering getting up by himself. "Wh..at.." He sighed and stood up, spinning for a second before consciousness came in. "Sam? What's wrong?"

"Gonna.. be sick.." Sam said, his head swaying and eyes glossed over.

"Whoa, whoa." Dean said, helping him up as carefully as he could by slipping his arm around his back and towards his chest. He put Sam's right arm over his shoulder and carefully lead him towards the bathroom. Sam whimpered with each step, relying as much as possible on Dean. He struggled with each step, especially with both legs injured or at the very least, very sore.

Sam shook violently as he tried to coordinate his unwilling limbs in the correct direction. He stopped as soon as he reached the bathroom, dropped to his knees and shouting painfully, and conversing over the toilet. Dean supported him, holding him up so he didn't have to lay on his arm.

Sam was shaking and his brain was in pain-overload, channels from every part of his body casting in their pains. His knees were shouting, his legs were crying, his shoulder was screaming, but his ribs were the worst. He couldn't stop them from hurting no matter how he tried. Puking was the worst thing for anyone with a broken rib, and he had a ton. He'd have to ask Dean how many when he was finished emptying himself into the latrine.

Finally, as though it had been years, his body ran out of food and he slumped over, nearly falling onto the toilet seat and saved only by his older brother's caring hands. Dean pulled up carefully, lifting Sam despite the lack of effort Sam was putting forwards. Sam dropped his head down low, barely held up by his neck and spine, and allowed Dean to basically carry him to the bed, only half-hopping now on his sprained ankle.

Dean, with quite a bit of work, put Sam back on the bed and propped him up against the headboard carefully. He carefully lifted Sam's legs up too, trying his best to make his baby brother comfortable.

"How about," Dean smirked and grabbed a box. "A morphine patch?" He shook the box enticingly.

"No."

Dean frowned. "What d'you mean, no?" He said, dangling a patch in front of Sam's face, who was barely able to register any movement.

"That's what made me puke." He said tiredly, his entire body wanting to vomit again despite the emptiness. "Read the caution thing on the side of the box."

Dean squinted and began reading, scowling when he saw what Sam was talking about. "Because it is not directly administered to the blood, these patches may result in nausea, headaches, vomiting, and increased chances of pneumonia? What the heck?" He glared. "How can a morphine patch give you pneumonia?"

Sam shrugged without thinking and gasped painfully, raising his shoulders close to his head to stop the pain erupting in his right shoulder. "D-d-did you ch-check for br-breaks in my sh.." He swallowed painfully. "Shoulder?"

"Oh, darn.." Dean mouthed, realizing the one thing he'd forgotten. "Here, let me see.." He sat down on the right side of the bed, coming in close towards Sam's shoulder. "You might want to brace yourself little brother." He pushed his fingers around the bone, feeling for a crack or a break.

"Ah." Sam stiffened, squinting his eyes shut in pain. He took in a few sharp breaths, "Yeah, that- HURTS!" He started to shout, making Dean pull his hand back immediately. Sam clasped his left hand on his shoulder protectively.

"Sorry," Dean apologized.

Sam breathed in raggedly, leaning back his head tiredly. "Let's.." His voice cracked and he whimpered. "Let's not do that again."

Dean nodded in his agreement. "Are you sure you don't want a morphine-" Sam glared. "-okay.."

The older Winchester wandered towards the clock and frowned. "Dude, it's 6:28." He growled. "For once, could you sleep in? I mean, you fell off a freakin' 20 foot cliff, and you're still waking up early?"

Sam turned his eyes lazily towards Dean's. "M'sorry."

Dean felt as if someone had hit him. "No, don't apologize. Just relax, please. Take it easy a little bit for once, Sammy." He told him.

"I just.." Sam avoided Dean's eyes. "I feel like I have to." Dean's eyes dug into him, so he continued. "I just.. Remember back when Dad got so angry at me for sleeping in that one time and letting that demon kill some girl?"

"Hey, that wasn't your fault. Besides, it was only 9:40 or something."

"But I just think.." Sam whimpered for a second, trying his best to conceal it. "He'd be prouder of me if I didn't sleep in. He might... I don't know.." He sighed slowly, turning his gaze back to Dean.

Dean slumped onto the bed. "I know what you mean. That feeling you've got to wake up early for Dad?" He made eye contact. "The only way to get rid of it, is do the exact opposite of it."

"Like you've been doing?"

Dean's head shot up and he glared. "Excuse me?

Sam bit down on his tongue. "Nothing.."

"No, seriously," Dean stood back up over the bed where Sam cast his glance upon him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam shrugged before gasping like before, squinting his eyes shut and holding the shoulder close to him and keeping his eyes shut to prevent crying. He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring at Dean. "It just me-means.." He drew another sharp breath. "..that things you wou-would normal.. normally avoid around h-him, you d-do all the ti-ime."

"Like?" Dean crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Like being so reckless all the time? Like how you enjoy killing things now, instead of killing them to make the world safe?" Sam's anger fueled him. He couldn't feel the pain in his body for his sudden rage; causing him to speak louder and faster than normal. "Like that thing with Gordon?"

"Hey! I came out of that on the good side!" Dean shouted, pointing a finger in Sam's face angrily. He could feel his feelings bubbling up to the top of his glass, getting ready to flow over. "In the end I knew that difference between wrong and right, and maybe you did help me to see that a little bit-"

"A little bit?!"

"-But I always end up doing the right thing!" He shouted into Sam's face.

"If it hadn't been for me, you would've killed every one of those people who were actually innocent! And you know what? You wouldn't have even cared! If I hadn't been there, would you have even had a shred of remorse? Or would you have tortured them just like Gordon did?" Sam sat up indignantly, coughing slightly to clear his dry throat. He felt a warm ringing in his ears from his and Dean's shouting.

Dean's eyes flashed angrily and he nodded slowly, plastering on a fake smile. He took a step back, his mind exploding, as his brain absorbed all that Sam had said. He turned his head for a second before returning his eyes back to Sam's, when he lost it.

It was all Sam's eyes. Every time he got angry, it was Sam's eyes. Just the hue of challenge, the flavor of rebellion, the shade of defiance; it made Dean feel like his younger brother was telling him he was stupid through those eyes. And that's what made him lose it.

Dean blinked and saw a quick mental IHOP commercial, not really questioning it as it happened, and when he reopened his eyes he was standing over Sam. He was crumpled up in a ball on the floor, holding his face in his hand- the left uninjured one of course, and shaking silently.

Slowly and carefully, Sam peeked out from his hiding spot, still holding part of his jaw and mouth with his hand protectively. Blood dribbled down Sam's hand, streaming from his nose. Dean felt the unfamiliar warmth on his knuckles and glanced over at them. He frowned when he saw Sam's blood dripping along his fingers, his eyes widening.

Sam stared with huge, terrified eyes. He felt tears pooling in his eyes and tried his best to avoid saying anything in fear of upsetting Dean again into hitting him. Despite Sam was fearless while hunting, he knew one thing that still scared him. Well, two, but that one was dead. Even if he killed demons and vampires and ghosts and could do nearly anything, he didn't want to fight Dean. Especially not injured.

Dean felt his knees almost give out when he stood over Sam, his head pounding. _I did this. He wasn't doing anything I couldn't just let roll off of my back. He was trying to tell me something to help me, not hurt me. I beat my hurt little brother. I knocked Sammy off the bed, even after he fell off a cliff. What kind of brother am I?! _

"S-Sammy.." Dean reached forwards to help Sam, hoping to find some way of redeeming himself, but instead Sam scooted away. Dean took a step towards him again, only for Sam to push himself back further.

Sam kept scooting until he was against the wall, wincing as he pressed his injured shoulder and back against the hard wall. He stared in horror as Dean continued towards him, afraid of what would come. His legs laid in front of his body, the broken one still crooked from the break, and his chest was pulled in as far as he could, keeping Dean away.

Dean reached forwards with his hands to lift Sam up when Sam reacted: the younger brother held his uninjured arm over his ribs, as if to keep the most tender and already hurting part of his body away from Dean in preparation to be punched. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please stop.. I'm sorry," Sam whimpered, wishing Dean to hear him. Dean's heart broke as his knees collapsed.

"Sammy, I'm sorry." Dean told him, but Sam didn't react. "I didn't realize- my mind left, I didn't know.." He felt himself choking up, swallowing slowly and looking away. "Please, Sammy, I'm so, so sorry."

Sam flinched as Dean came to hug him, pushing himself as far as he could from Dean in fear of a sudden change in heart. He felt himself drawn towards Dean for support, but he wasn't sure he trusted him. "You.. you won't.." He paused, his voice cracking.

"I'm.." Dean felt a warm tear of his own, wiping it immediately in fear of becoming some chick-flick guy. He couldn't stand being the girly, light-in-your-loafers person. "I promise, I won't ever do that again. _Ever_."

Sam stared into Dean's eyes carefully and accepted his brother's hug, resting his heavy head against Dean's shoulder. Dean continued to apologize slowly and repeatedly, eventually helping Sam up to his foot and carrying him back over to the bed, putting him down and going to fetch the first aid yet again.

When he returned he apologized yet again, "I'm so sorry.."

"S'okay," Sam eventually said, smiling just a hair. "S'okay, Dean."

Dean sat down carefully on the right side of his younger brother, opening the box and beginning to find the things he needed- iodine, small bandages, neosporin- and looked at Sam, who was resting his eyelids and had lowered his chin to his chest, breathing shakily but breathing nonetheless.

"Can you look at me, please?" Dean requested quietly, and Sam turned his head, opening his tired eyes. He had new bruises on his cheekbones and jaw and his split lip that had almost closed up had reopened and ripped even worse, still bleeding. The split now reached through part of the skin beneath his lip. Then there was the red hand-print from where Dean had obviously slapped Sam that looked like it really stung.

Dean put the iodine on his lip, his heart physically hurting as Sam winced. He continued to place the iodine on the cut across his jaw and cheekbone, then rubbing neosporin on the cuts and placing strategic bandages over them each. The cut across his jaw only took one band-aid, whereas the one on his cheekbone took two. Dean contemplated for a while, and then decided he'd dig around the first aid for butterfly bandages to keep Sam's split lip closed.

"I'm sor-" Dean stopped short as Sam slapped him with his left hand. He nearly fell off the bed, his face stinging. He could feel the welt forming as he sat back up. "What was that?"

"We're even. Now stop apologizing." Sam told him bluntly with kind eyes.

Dean stared curiously and stood up. "Darn right, we are." He said, grinning. "So, do you want breakfast?"

"Are you kidding?" Sam stared into Dean's eyes.

"And, I can throw in a morphine patch!" Dean offered playfully, grabbing the box and ducking as the hotel TV remote came flying at him. "Haha!"

* * *

**TBC! PLEASE REVIEW! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for R+R! Please review again! :D**

* * *

Dean had managed to get Sam to eat some food- it was the most disgusting oatmeal ever, but Sam seemed to not notice and really enjoyed the soft texture in his weakened state, especially because of the sore jaw he had been given by Dean.

Sam, directly after finishing his meal, began to feel like he was going to puke. Dean had started relaxing until Sam called him frantically and had him help Sam towards the toilet, losing the little nutritional value he had gained.

After returning his brother to the bed, Dean decided to forfeit his gingersnaps to Sam. "They say that ginger helps the stomach with any kinds of ailments they suffer," Dean had read off of his phone to Sam before giving him the cookies. He warmed them up in the microwave to make them soft and gooey, then Sam ate them with ease.

Sam was able to hold down the cookies until lunch, when he started to feel sick and Dean miraculously found a motion sickness patch in the first aid kit that kept his food down. He at that point began feeding Sam anything and everything he could get down before the motion sickness wore off so that Sam could get _some_ food into his system.

And eventually, night came and they both rested tiredly, repeating their daily process for about two weeks before they needed to move to a new hotel, suspecting their fake identities to be revealed soon.

* * *

**Two weeks later**

"Oh, come on, Dean!" Sam objected as Dean picked up every bag that needed carrying out of the trunk towards their room in the new motel- the Armada. "It's been two weeks already!"

"Two weeks since you," Dean began to make a mental list. "Broke your leg in three places, sprained your other ankle, broke 8 ribs and cracked 5, broke your shoulder, arm, and hand, had an insane concussion, and got a ton of cuts and bruises?" He threw him a look.

Sam flared his jaw. "It wasn't that bad!"

"You're still wearing the braces and slings!"

Sam leaned defiantly against his crutch. "Not the brace for my sprained ankle."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is your ankle still bruised?"

"It's.." Sam scrunched up his nose. "No, it's not still bruised."

"Really?" Dean said with mock-excitement. "Let's see, then!" He put down the two bags he was carrying and pulled up Sam's jeans just enough to reveal a light green tint to his ankle. "Mhmm, well I see how un-bruised your ankle is."

Dean continued carrying the two bags towards their room, laughing at Sam's threats to grab the bags from Dean and carry them himself. He watched his brother, who had become more steady on his crutch after two weeks of practice. The first day he used it, he had hit his head on the edge of the table in the hotel room, producing a more than swollen bump on the back of his head.

"Fine, at least let me get the door?"

Dean contemplated, and eventually tossed the key-card at Sam, who caught the key and grinned, unlocking the door and smiling, proud of his work. "See? I could've carried something."

"Yeah, but I don't like carrying you and our luggage."

"Hey!"

"Really, Sam, you could do to lose some weight," Dean winked, dropping the bags on the floor and shutting the door. "It wouldn't hurt to eat one burger and cut the fries."

Sam scoffed. "You should talk!"

"Excuse me? I am fit as a fiddle."

"I bet you couldn't do five chin-ups."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Says the guy with the _broken arm, shoulder, and hand!_"

"I could do it if it weren't-"

"Oh, I'm sure you could."

Sam shot him a look, but inside his eyes Dean could tell that he was laughing. And honestly, it was bleeding through into a smile on his lips. Dean knew that Sam could have carried one of the bags. After all, he was really improving with his injuries. Dean was just a little scared that once Sam could do things by himself and not need Dean any more.

_Stupid, I know.. _Dean thought to himself. _But he's my brother. I can be stupid if I want to._

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**Thanks for everyone who reviewed! This is the last chapter, I hope you enjoyed the story! **


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